


A Gamble of Reputation

by fraufi666



Series: A Gamble of Reputation [1]
Category: Casino Royale (2006), James Bond - Ian Fleming, Political RPF - US 20th c.
Genre: American Presidents, Authority Figures, Baccarat, Cold War, Communism, Crossover, Gambling, Homophobia, M/M, Male Slash, Mild Language, Poker, Political Campaigns, Republican, Romance, Suspense, Vietnam War, anti-Semitism, monaco
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-30
Updated: 2014-11-30
Packaged: 2018-02-27 12:28:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,710
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2693003
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fraufi666/pseuds/fraufi666
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>President Nixon is invited to Monaco to gamble with a wealthy, but mysterious professional gambler who is only known as Le Chiffre. Torn between paranoia of this man’s profound knowledge of him, and the need to win, Nixon decides to take a dangerous gamble of his reputation with the assistance of his National Security Advisor. Will he be able to defeat Le Chiffre and build up his credibility? Or are Nixon’s poker playing days long gone?</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Gamble of Reputation

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: This story is a historical AU. Although I have used historical figures and some references based from real events, (e.g Vietnam War, Nixon's presidency) this is entirely a work of fiction. All romantic encounters, events and insinuations are from my imagination. I mean no disrespect to any of the people depicted. I am also in no way politically biased. I have been inspired by both Ian Fleming’s 007 novel of Casino Royale, as well as the film under the same name and I do not take credit for the characters or the ideas I have used from these sources. I thank all of the lovely friends, who have helped me with ideas for this fanfiction, and the numerous articles that have provided me information on the numerous topics I have covered here.

Richard Nixon sat at his desk, rifling through some important papers in regards to foreign policy when Haldeman walked into the room.

"Christ, Bob. You startled me!" Nixon exclaimed, his eyes already on the other man "Haven't you heard of knocking?"

"Mr President, it's urgent." Haldeman responded, handing over an envelope to him. "I was informed to deliver this to you right away." 

Nixon frowned at the envelope, looked around to make sure that they were alone and opened it carefully. Inside, was a formal invitation addressed to him. It was such a contrast to the bland, nondescript envelope that carried it. Since when was an invitation so urgent? 

"Bob, make sure to close that door." Nixon instructed. Haldeman obeyed immediately and left the president to read the invitation in peace. 

  _To Mr President,_

_You have been cordially invited to attend the Casino Royale. We have learnt of your talents playing poker during your time in the US Navy* and we would very much be intrigued to see you play. I, Le Chiffre have read about your poker-related exploits and it would be an honour to play a round of poker with you._

_Beneath are the details to the hotel and location. I hope that you can join us._

_Yours sincerely,_

_Le Chiffre._

Nixon read through the note again in a mixture of confusion and shock. Who was this man, and how did he did he know so much about the president? He had never seen this name before, and now that he thought of it, he didn't even think about poker all that much lately. Since coming into power, Nixon had long abandoned his poker playing. Yet it was poker which did help fund for his campaign and like Le Chiffre thought, he was rather good at it. But what was so urgent about this game? 

 He seized the phone to ring Kissinger. "Henry, get in here right away. I have something to tell you." He said in a tone of concern, hanging up before the other man got a chance to reply. 

 Kissinger arrived at the Oval Office quickly without a trace of hesitation. He was at Nixon's side, and even though the news hadn't been told to him, he could sense that something was deeply bothering the president. 

 "What is wrong, Mr President?" Kissinger asked, his hand on Nixon's shoulder to comfort him. 

 "Henry, take a look at this and let me know what you think." Nixon said quickly, handing the note to the National Security Advisor as if it were on fire. "Someone knows about me and my history. And I have no idea who he is."

 Kissinger read through the invitation patiently, his brow furrowed in thought. "I think, Mr President..." Kissinger began after a long time "That this is an opportunity to strengthen your credibility. We may not know who this man is, but he could really help build your reputation." 

 "Y-you think so?" Nixon asked quizzically "But Henry, I haven't played a game since I came into office!" 

 The other man gave a small smile, which reassured him "Richard, you shouldn't worry. After all, you are the president. He is bound to know all sorts of things about you if he is a fan, like any other person who respects you. Perhaps, he is willing to support our policies." 

 Nixon nodded, and for a while he seemed so relieved to have Kissinger by his side. He seemed a lot less nervous. But there was still one question that remained. As Kissinger almost turned to leave the room, Nixon voiced it.

 "What kind of Republican resides in Monaco*?" 

 Kissinger pondered at the question for a while. "It is odd. But perhaps you have many admirers abroad. If we are able to build your reputation globally, the American people might start to appreciate your deeds."

 Nixon's eyes widened at the prospect. He stood up suddenly to take Kissinger by the shoulders "Henry! You're absolutely right." Before he could stop himself, he kissed Kissinger directly on the mouth with joy "God, I love you, my Jew-boy. You're a genius." 

 Kissinger grinned as he took Nixon's hands, his eyes shining behind his thick glasses "I am aware of that, Mr President." He smirked. 

 Quickly, the two disentangled from one another and Kissinger left the room as if nothing had happened between the two of them. But even after Kissinger had provided him the confidence that he needed, Nixon was still hesitant about the idea of playing poker with a person he had never met. Was he really a person that he could trust? Or was he an enemy in disguise? He still had so many enemies, many who had wanted to expose his deceit, but was Le Chiffre against him when he knew nothing about him? So many questions continued to spin in his mind and he finally gave up working for the day, knowing that he was never going to get anything done with this situation occupying his mind. Even as he tried to hide the invitation, he still couldn't get those words out of his head. 

 Unfortunately, as Nixon tried to forget about poker game, the day was getting closer and closer. It was only a week until he had to fly to Monaco and it struck him that there was not a lot of time to keep putting it off. He had to make a decision and make it quickly. He gazed out of the window pensively, almost as if the view of Washington D.C. would give him an answer. But as he stared, a couple of cherry blossoms fell from the trees, scattering into the wind and he thought of Kissinger once more. Perhaps, there was no point in debating about whether or not he should go. Kissinger was the one who he trusted, and the one who also had faith in his own abilities. 

 Nixon grabbed the phone immediately and phoned him so that he wouldn't lose his nerve "Henry." He said impatiently, "I'm going to do it. I'm going to Monaco and I will win!" 

 Kissinger's tone was confident, and even though Nixon could not see him smile, he could feel it in his voice, "I know you will, Mr President." 

 

 The day was finally approaching and the two of them were on board the presidential jet.

 "Are you sure you don't want your wife to support you?" Kissinger asked, sitting beside him. "Does she know that you have been given this opportunity?”

 "No." Nixon said firmly "Pat doesn't have any idea. And I plan to keep it that way."

 Kissinger looked slightly taken aback at his answer "You mean, you chose me rather than your wife to go on this journey with you? But isn't this going to look worse for the press, if they find out that the president is spending more time with his National Security Advisor than his wife?" 

 "They can think whatever the hell they want." Nixon responded gruffly. He moved a little bit closer to Kissinger, lowering his voice "I don't want to choose anyone else for this than you, Henry. And if we keep this a secret, then the press wouldn't even get a chance to write about us." 

 Kissinger put a hand on Nixon's. "Then it will be safe." He said finally, giving him a small smile in turn. He edged slightly closer, and Nixon's heart fluttered in anticipation but he quickly pulled away. 

 "No, Henry. It's not safe here. We have to make sure that we are completely alone." He sounded sad, his eyes downcast but Kissinger understood and moved back into his seat. 

 "Of course, Mr President. We can wait until we get to the hotel." Kissinger said. "Now, do you have any tactics in mind to win in this game?"

 Nixon's eyes flashed in determination as the question was posed to him. Even though it had been ages since he had played poker, he had not forgotten some of his main tactics. "Plenty." He answered "I know how to keep a straight face if I've got the cards. I've been pretty good with this back in the Navy. And I'll play tight, of course. This Le Chiffre guy wouldn't even know what hit him!" 

 "Good." Kissinger purred approvingly, his eyes on the president. He took a look outside the window, noticing the darkening sky "You should get some rest. It's a long ride until we get into the hotel." 

 Nixon nodded. His eyes were starting to feel heavy and now that he thought of it, he did not have a lot of sleep these past few days  "Alright. I'm going to get some shuteye then. Goodnight Henry." 

 "Goodnight, Richard." Kissinger responded. Once he was sure that Nixon was fast asleep, he reached into the back of the seat and took out a blanket. He unfolded the blanket and placed it onto the sleeping president, tucking it gently around his body. Since Nixon wasn't awake to tell him off, he gave him a gentle kiss on the forehead before sitting back down and reading through some files. It was only when he had started to feel tired himself, that he surrendered to sleep.

 Once Nixon had woken up, they had already landed at their destination. It was a quiet but nerve-racking ride as they were driven through the winding streets to the hotel. The Monacan landscape stretched eerily ahead of them and as they drove on, Nixon was all too aware that they were heading towards a completely unknown place, for unknown circumstances. The only thing that was really guiding him was the possibility to win this game, which he knew would certainly help build up his campaign. To turn around would be not only foolish, but also cowardly. 

 They climbed out of the car and up the steps to the hotel. The receptionist immediately welcomed the two men graciously and let them stay in the most expensive suite. "If you need anything, anything at all, please let us know." She said, grinning ear to ear as Nixon and Kissinger stumbled tiredly into the room "Goodnight gentlemen." Finally, the star struck receptionist left them alone. 

 To Nixon's disappointment, the room did not have a double bed, but he was much too anxious to get up to anything intimate with his advisor. Quickly, he grabbed the phone, making a call for a strong brandy "And make it quick." He said gruffly. He put a hand on the headset and turned to Kissinger "Henry, do you want anything?"

 "No thank you, Mr President. I'll be alright." Kissinger responded. Seeing how agitated the other man looked, he sat down beside him on the bed. "Are you having second thoughts?"

 "Oh, I don't know." Nixon sighed in frustration "There's just so much information that we don't know. But I'm not a quitter. This game could be the ultimate highlight to my career." 

 "That's right." Kissinger agreed, "Try and see the advantages and all of the possibilities this opportunity would open for you." For a moment, he gazed into his eyes deeply, but before either of them could make a move, there was a knock on the door. 

 

"That would be my brandy." Nixon said, getting up from the bed. He walked over to the door and took it off the cheery concierge and gave him a tip. The heat was making him sweaty and all the more anxious that he needed this drink to just take the edge off everything. He drank down the brandy, immediately taken aback by the sweet, strong taste. Things around him were starting to blur, and he gladly drank more. 

 "Mr President…" Kissinger called out in concern "You should take it easy. You don't want a hangover before the game." 

 "Oh I don't care about a hangover." Nixon grumbled "This is just the thing I need before I put myself on the line." Now feeling more confident, he turned to Kissinger "Come lie with me." He said tipsily "There is nobody else around to stop us." 

 Kissinger grinned and went over to dim the lights "You don't even have to ask." He said, climbing onto the bed with him. It wasn't a very large one, but at least there was just enough room for two people. Eagerly, they undressed in the dark, kissing passionately in the process. It had been far too long since they had a moment like this, and Kissinger was making the most of it. Nixon gasped as the other planted hard kisses to his face and neck. He clung onto the younger man as if he were a buoy in the midst of a rocky sea, savouring his caresses like brief gasps of oxygen as he felt himself being pulled under. Once exhausted, they fell asleep into each other's arms. 

 

 That next evening, Nixon's head was slightly throbbing from all the brandy he had drunken last night, but with a couple of painkillers, most of the pain had subsided. He silently cursed himself for being so reckless, yet after a shower, he felt more awake and alive. Dressed in tuxedos, they walked beneath the large chandelier of the hotel towards the casino. The classical music in the background began to add to Nixon's adrenalin and he marvelled at the lavish Victorian architecture around him. Kissinger on the other hand, appeared rather blank as he briefly addressed his surroundings. But Nixon knew that Kissinger was probably more curious about who their potential opponent would be. 

 As soon as they had entered into the casino, the people sitting at the main table all stopped and gazed at the president in wonder. Most of the other places had been cleared, probably because the president's visit was confidential. Nixon was relieved about that, although at the same time he wished to have a larger audience of admirers. It would certainly be a boost to his reputation once he had made his victory. 

 "Good evening gentlemen!" a man called out. Nixon figured that by the way he was dressed that he worked at the casino, possibly the croupier. He shook each of their hands in turn. "We've been looking forward to seeing you." He said to Nixon, "Especially Le Chiffre. He'll be coming down in a mo-"

 "There's no need for that." A low voice answered dismissively in the distance. They turned around to see a man emerge from the shadows. He was dressed from head to toe in the most expensive of black suits, which made his fair complexion a deathly pallor. As he walked closer, Nixon noticed that the man had one oddly light left eye, which greatly contrasted to the hazel of his right. A small scar on his lighter eye added to the man's deformity. "Greetings, Mr President." The man said with a small smile, although his eyes gazed at Nixon with such coldness "I have been waiting for you for a long time. My name is Le Chiffre." He extended a hand and Nixon awkwardly shook it. To his surprise it was as cold as ice. "And, greetings to you too, Henry Kissinger." Le Chiffre added, addressing the other man "I've heard a lot of things about you too. Are you going to play a game as well?"

 "No, Le Chiffre. I am merely a spectator." 

 "Pity." Le Chiffre sighed, yet his tone sounded more like one of bitterness rather than that of sympathy "I heard that you are quite an intelligent man. But anyway, let's not waste anymore time." Briskly, he walked them over to the main roulette table, where two men, one Japanese, the other Italian were already playing. A few other people were sitting at the table, although they were mainly watching "Take a seat." Le Chiffre said gesturing at the empty chair that was opposite to the one he was sitting down in. One of the staff members of the casino quickly moved out the chair for the president obediently. Nixon sat down and looked at the messy piles of chips that were scattered all over the table. The Italian briefly looked at his cards, yet his face turned pale in shock. 

 "Mamma Mia!" He exclaimed, realising that it was the other man who had the matching set. The Japanese man only gave a small hint of a smile as he took his winning set of chips away. 

 "This will be a new round." The croupier announced. Kissinger had sat down a little further away from the table, but still close enough to offer Nixon some support. Le Chiffre had a finger pressed against his temple in deep concentration, perhaps planning what he would do once the game commenced. Nixon decided to just be careful to begin with, knowing that taking any sort of risks would put him in trouble. 

 Nixon could feel Kissinger's presence as the other man whispered in his ear before retreating back to his seat.

 

"Good luck, Richard." 

 He could feel his palms perspire as he heard the other man's voice so close to him, and how this both added to his confidence but also made him nervous. Quickly, he rubbed his hands against his trousers, to make sure that not a bead of sweat was visible. It was crucial that he could not give himself away at a time like this. 

 As the croupier began to shuffle the deck, Nixon took a few moments to study the rest of the players at the table. There was a wealthy Croatian man, who was casually smoking a cigar. He seemed to be pretty confident with himself, although Nixon suspected that it was likely that he would lose his temper if things did not go his way. A couple of English gentlemen were chattering excitedly, and Nixon smirked at this display of emotion, knowing that they would be the first to lose. A Chinese man was waiting patiently, his eyes focussed on the cards, demonstrating that he was probably going to be one of the hardest players to beat. 

 "Open bank, starting at five hundred francs." The banker called out.

 There was an awkward silence at the table. Nobody wanted to accept this bet. As a result, everyone ended up all putting their money together for the bet. Nixon looked over at Le Chiffre, who simply just handed over his share without a trace of hesitation. The bet was made. 

 The game had commenced and everyone each took a card quietly. They continued on, and to Nixon's disappointment, he did not get the winning set as he took his second card. His gaze flittered over to Le Chiffre, who gazed back at him coldly through his oddly coloured eyes. He might have had the cards, but it was hard to tell. His expression remained as emotionless as ever, perhaps in deep concentration. Some of the other players sighed, or threw down their cards in dismay as they had no luck. 

 Minutes ticked by, and still Nixon could feel himself perspire as he anxiously checked the cards. He tried to keep calm, yet Le Chiffre was quick to notice the way the president's hand had shook as he put down the card. The European smirked slightly.

  _Damn, he can read me like a book._ Nixon thought furiously _. How can I be so stupid?!_

Was Kissinger still there? Nixon was needy for his support right now. He was not feeling so confident and anything to encourage him would be much appreciated. Even if he could not embrace him in public, at least a slight nod in approval could lift his spirits. He was tempted to turn his head around and steal a glance at the back of the room, but realised that he had to pay attention to the game. Being one of the bankers, Le Chiffre had a slight advantage over him, and it was possible that he could easily clear out Nixon's bank if he had the chance. 

  _Do not show weakness. That is what ends you._

"Are you alright?" Le Chiffre asked, his tone in mock concern, yet his expression still so calm "You're perspiring." Sure enough, as Nixon lifted his hands from the green table, he could see a slight darkening imprint where his hands sat. 

 "Well…erm. That's just the heat." Nixon replied, sounding far more confident than he had felt. 

 Le Chiffre gave a small smile, perhaps in disbelief. He could see through him far too clearly. "You are welcome to take a break, if you so wish to change your shirt."

 Thinking that the man was just being extra polite so he could cheat him out while he was absent made Nixon lift his guard. "No." He replied "But if _you_ need to change your shirt, I'm not stopping you pal." As he said this, he chuckled, surprising the European. He was starting to feel a little bit more confident. After all, this man was practically a nobody. At least he was president, in fact, the most powerful man in the world. This game was a gamble of reputation but he knew that the victory would certainly lift his image to the public eye. 

 "You're quite a confident one, aren't you?" Le Chiffre sneered, "You say so many grand words, but I wonder…is this just compensating for something else?"

 Nixon's heart skipped a beat as he heard what was an insulting comment, but kept his smile plastered on his face, hoping that he could continue to distract the other man "From where I'm sitting, it sounds like you know the most about needing to compensate."

 The rest of the players, heavily distracted by the heated conversation between these two men were starting to lose their focus. Nixon felt like he could speak condescendingly to Le Chiffre all day if he wanted to, but needed to remain calm and as levelheaded as possible. This was not politics, and debating with Le Chiffre was not going to help his victory. After a final smile, he switched his concentration back to the cards. So far, he had two diamonds and four hearts. If he had just a three, he could get exactly nine and win, yet what was the chance that he was going to get the desired result on the third card? He looked back at Le Chiffre, who gave no indication as to whether he had the cards or not. 

 Once he took his third card, he was sure that he was going to become dizzy from so much nervousness. This could be the card that would either assist him, or make him suffer defeat. He lifted it up.

 His heart sank in disappointment. It was a four. If it were just one less, he would have been successful. Just one. He couldn't believe his rotten luck. 

 "Do you still want to play?" Le Chiffre asked, looking at the president with a hint of a smile. Nixon quickly replaced the disappointment with a smile. 

 "Of course!" Nixon replied. "How could I stop if we've only just begun?"

 To his faint horror, Le Chiffre smoothly took out a nine from the deck. "I'm afraid that you're finished, Mr President." He said, and before him, all three cards made a perfect nineteen. He smirked as the croupier calculated the total and then gave him the poker chips.

 "There will be a brief break before we play for a million." The croupier instructed. As soon as he said those words, Nixon stormed from the table, too disheartened to even face the banker who was smiling at him with greed. 

 As Nixon descended from the marble staircase, a hand fell on his arm. 

 "Are you giving up?" Kissinger asked. 

 "We only just started and already I've lost!" Nixon grumbled, "Jeez, Henry. I should have known that this bastard was going to cheat me out. We're leaving, first thing tomorrow!"

 Kissinger's face fell. "This is not the Richard Nixon I know." He said, "He used to always say that he wasn't a quitter, no matter what sort of circumstances were thrown in his way." 

 "Well, he was an idiot." Nixon replied crossly. "Henry, just leave me alone. I don't want to face that man again." 

 But the other man stayed put. From the look of utter sadness on the president's face, he knew that he really wanted to be comforted. They walked back to the hotel room in silence and once the door was closed, Nixon collapsed onto the chair in despair, his hand over his face. 

 "I've lost my touch, Henry. Whatever I used to be back in the Navy, I'm not that man anymore. I've grown soft! He can read right through me." He was hysterical "...if I've lost my touch, then I can surely lose the chance to be elected for another term. This is what has been funding for my campaigns...I have no hope now." 

 Kissinger took both of his arms, peering at him from behind his thick glasses. "Yes, you may have forgotten how to win." he said, "It has been a while since you have played. But you can always get that back. It's all just a matter of remembering _how_ you did it." 

 Nixon scoffed "You make it sound so damn easy."

 "That's because it is. Don't let fear hold you back, Richard. Otherwise it will engulf you like a disease. It will destroy you." Nixon was turning away, but Kissinger gripped him even tighter so that he wouldn't go. "What do you think Kennedy would do in this situation?"

 His jaw dropped, realising where Kissinger was going with this. "He wouldn't even try." Nixon realised. 

 "See?" Kissinger said kindly, beaming at him "You are much better than him. Braver than any of the Kennedys. And it is because of this, that I believe that you are capable to win against Le Chiffre. Now, get cleaned up, change your shirt and we'll go back there." 

 Nixon frowned. He never liked to be ordered by Kissinger, but he did have a point. Without another thought, he took off his jacket and took out a fresh shirt. "Henry...I-" He began, wanting to thank him. 

 "Thank me when you've won." Kissinger said. And with that, he gave him a quick kiss. 

 "What was that for?" Nixon asked in confusion. 

 "It's for luck." Kissinger explained with a cheeky smile. "Even though I don't think you'll need it."

 

 Once they had made it back to the casino, Nixon sat down with a new sense of pride and confidence. It was as if someone had reached into his mind and erased all of the fear and paranoia that mostly lingered there. Le Chiffre looked at the president across from him in surprise, but he didn't say anything. 

 "One million." The croupier called out. "Any takers?"

 There was a murmur through the players and at the corner of his eye; he could see a few of them shaking their heads in disagreement. 

 "I'll take it." Nixon said, pushing forward the chips he had in front of him. Le Chiffre's eyes widened a fraction, but he followed suit. He was probably thinking that the president was crazy for taking such a risk, but was eager that this meant that this would fill up his bank even more. 

 It was the croupier's turn to look amazed. "Nobody else? Okay, gentlemen. Take your cards."

 Nixon took a card, and then glimpsed at it before looking back at Le Chiffre. The European took one in turn, his gaze fixated on the president. A pale finger went back to his temple again as Le Chiffre began to concentrate deeply. 

 "Thinking hard?" Nixon asked, keeping his voice as neutral as possible. He hoped that by doing this, it would break the other man's focus. The oddly coloured eyes snapped back at him. There was a slight crease in his brow. 

 "Concentration is most important, Mr President. But I guess being an old man might have caused some brain cells to diminish." 

 "Ah, you know that running the country is serious business." Nixon replied, keeping his voice tone even "In fact, I think it makes one sharper than just lounging in the most expensive villas and casinos. People who do that are the saddest people of all. No ambition. No motivation or drive to live..." 

 Le Chiffre smiled bitterly at Nixon's statement "You are a funny man, Mr President." He responded, "But do you really think that I am of a lesser man than you?" 

 The room was silent, as if everyone was waiting for Le Chiffre to continue. Their surroundings had darkened considerably and at that moment, it was as if there was no audience, just these two men playing a dangerous game of reputation "You and I…" Le Chiffre began "Are more alike than you think." he took his second card, his expression still the same as he glanced at it momentarily "We are all after the same goal. We are admired by our people so much…and nobody quite understands us."  The cold, discoloured eye pierced deep into Nixon's gaze. "You may think I am an evil man…but really, I am seen to be more of a hero with my people than you will ever be..." 

 Nixon frowned, realising that this information didn't make sense. Suddenly, it all came to him "You're…you're a Communist, aren't you?" He gasped in realisation. Now he knew why this man was playing against him. This game was not just for fun, or a mere challenge with the president…it was a game with the enemy. Why didn't he figure it out before? He was always so suspicious about Le Chiffre being a supporter of his policies since receiving his invitation, yet it never occurred to him that this man was on the complete opposite side. 

 Le Chiffre merely gave a small, sly smile and that was enough confirmation for him.

 Despite this news all being quite sudden for the president, it was as if someone had turned the switch on at the back of his head, for now he was thinking much more clearly and quickly. He was making calculations in his head with the strength of the young Nixon back in the Navy…no, even better; even stronger. This was a man that he was determined to beat, and he knew that this was no longer just a game for himself; it was a game for the nation. 

 He glanced at Le Chiffre with concentration, and with strategic deftness, pulled out his third card. He felt himself perspire in anticipation, yet he forced himself to stay focussed and to avoid giving himself away. With all three cards together, it was a perfect nine. Nixon glanced up at Le Chiffre, his face still. 

 Le Chiffre returned same emotionless expression, much to Nixon's disappointment. He wanted to see this Communist burn, as well as to confirm his enemy's defeat. But the man merely took out a ventolin pump and after a few pushes, took some puffs before turning back to his cards. It was deathly silent and then from such a long wait, the croupier looked at each of their cards. 

 "There has been a draw." The croupier announced. Nixon's eyes widened as he turned back to Le Chiffre, who also looked just as dismayed as he felt. Something fell from beneath the small scar on Le Chiffre's eye and it seemed as if he was crying, but after closer inspection Nixon realised that these were red droplets of blood. Against his ghost-like pallor, it made him appear all the more sinister. 

 "The thing about you Americans is that you are all so naive. You seem to hold that belief that there only exists two sides in the world; good and evil." Le Chiffre murmured, as if reading Nixon's mind "But…do you really think you are any better? Everyone has traits of good and evil. It just depends on how much you are willing to reveal." 

 The words seemed to stick into the older man's mind and even though he tried to ignore them to focus, they persisted like a stubborn headache. As much as he wanted to prove the European wrong, and to slam down his claim with a more powerful argument, he admitted to himself in disgust that he did have a point. A bead of sweat dripped from Nixon's temples as he struggled to gather his thoughts. 

 "All I care about revealing…" Nixon said finally "Is my victory." As he said this, he pushed all of his poker chips carelessly towards the centre of the table in determination. _And with that, I'll stop all the dominoes from falling.*_

Le Chiffre's brow raised as he pushed his chips towards the centre, knocking down a few chips in the process. Beforehand, Nixon noticed how Le Chiffre had been so tidy about the way the chips were stacked, yet seeing this spontaneous act only thrilled him to know that his opponent was just as eager and possibly as foolish as he was. "And what I will reveal, is your defeat." He said coldly "You have my word. Five million!" He said, raising his voice to the croupier. The croupier got to work shuffling the cards vigorously and Nixon watched him with the utmost attention.

 They played quietly for several more minutes, paying little attention to their surroundings. They gazed into each other's eyes fiercely, as if impassioned lovers, refusing to let the other go. Every action, no matter how minor was scrutinised with care. A slight tug at the cufflinks, to a nervous pull of the bow tie and a pause to get a gasp of oxygen was crucial to the other. Nixon noticed the way the corners of Le Chiffre's mouth turned up ever so slightly as he paused to wipe the glistening sweat from his forehead, yet he too looked just as amused to see the other wipe a blood tear from his malicious eye. 

 "So, you're weeping Communist tears, I see." Nixon teased, flashing a grin "It just makes you look more like the bad guy than anything else." 

 Le Chiffre's eyes were bright with what seemed to be anger, but his voice was still low, "Pity you refuse to see things without looking through Cold War lenses." 

 "Let me tell you a story…" Nixon began, hoping to divert his attention more. Le Chiffre made no response, which was just as much as an invitation to begin as a quiet means to end the conversation. Nixon followed the first interpretation "When I was a young Congressman from California, I was able to expose people just like you very easily. America is a land of freedom, a place where there is no room for the oppressive forces of Communism. The American people were afraid. They did not want their world to be taken over by the Reds. But I was so very, very clever and I was able to get them straight away. I'm sure you've seen what I did with Alger Hiss, for instance."

 The European's face was as frozen as a mask "…I may have heard something like that." He said quietly, unmoved although inside he was feeling some dread for the president's statement. He brushed the fear away without another thought. 

 "Not everyone approved of my methods, of course. Mainly those bums who don't know anything about what is going on in the world…those hippies. But I have what you don't have: A silent majority."

 "Actually..." Le Chiffre began; his grip on his cards more relaxed "This silent majority, might not be as big as you think it is. I have heard so much about the way young people… _your_ young people are joining our forces. They have seen your system for what it is. They are merely becoming more aware that this vision of the land of the free that you keep on portraying, is really just filled with more lies than you care to mention. And one day, when you are old and defenceless, and no longer sitting on your throne of lies, you will finally admit to the world that you had let down the American people*." 

 Nixon narrowed his eyes. For now, he did not know about the importance of this man's words, but years later he would learn. He looked back at the cards, all the more eager to shut this man up once he had his chance. He took his third card, scrutinising Le Chiffre's features as the other man, too, glanced at his own. 

 Le Chiffre quickly grabbed the ventolin and took a few puffs. Nixon could not tell whether he was excited or shocked at what he saw. Nixon joined all three cards together, and to his joy managed to get nine in total for the last digit. There was an overwhelming temptation to just stand up and yell out his victory for all to see, but he kept his mouth shut and his features devoid of any emotion. 

 The croupier looked at the cards in turn, his face full of astonishment. "It is another draw." He said in amazement.

 Nixon's jaw dropped. How in the world was it possible? It was true that Le Chiffre would always have a slight advantage over him, but having a draw was so rare in the game and this was the second time that it had occurred. Le Chiffre too, looked slightly taken aback, but he was quick to switch back to his poker face. 

 "Ten million." Le Chiffre said, his voice detached yet there was still some hint of anger. The discoloured eye was back in Nixon's field of vision again and he felt his bowels run cold and a shiver pass through him. This man was more than determined to end him, and he was going to make the game even harder. 

 He adjusted his cufflinks "You know, I did not realise that you were so willing to continue. I was under the impression that you did not like to take dangerous risks." 

 Nixon saw right through Le Chiffre's words, his mere attempt to simply make him give up "Actually you thought wrong, pal." He said with a grin, trying not to become too affected by the other man's presence. In the dull light of the room, Le Chiffre looked slightly vampiric, his eyes, filled in such a fierce hunger as if he was just waiting to devour him whole. Nixon looked away from him to the croupier. 

 "I'm in." He said firmly.  

 Once all the chips were put together, they started to play again. Nixon started to wonder whether Kissinger had watched the whole episode before him, or if he had already gone to bed. He barely had the chance to look at the time, but he knew that if he had an excuse to check, Le Chiffre would pounce on the opportunity to cheat him. He could not allow that to happen. 

 They did not speak for several more minutes. 

 "Why so quiet for?" Le Chiffre asked, breaking the silence. "Did my words finally make sense to you in that head of yours? I am surprised that you haven't gone away to change your shirt again. It must be hard, being so quick to perspire." 

 Nixon's hands were about to turn into fists, but he forced himself for remain calm. He could see everything and a display of emotion was exactly what he had wanted. 

 "You have no idea what you are talking about." Nixon responded, smiling "In fact, if anyone heard this conversation they would think that you are insane."

 Le Chiffre's eyebrows raised slightly "Insane? And, what makes you think that you are saner than I? Tell me, how did those pills go? I hope that you have been taking them." For a moment, it looked as if he was genuinely concerned. Nixon fought hard from the urge to grit his teeth. _How the hell did he find out?!_ He thought in horror. _Was the press now keeping tabs on his psychiatric appointments as well?_ If it were an American journalist who knew this, he wouldn't have been as surprised, but this European must have had some strong connections to the United States to be able to be given such confidential information freely. Did he pay a great deal of money to get information to learn of his opponent's weaknesses so that he could use them to his own advantage? 

 "You have no way to prove that." Nixon responded smoothly, ignoring the beads of sweat on his forehead which threatened to blow his cover.

 "You sound so sure of that." Le Chiffre said "But in fact, I have many good friends who have told me of all sorts of things about the president. Friends that you speak to all the time." He flashed a malicious smile "But in actuality, who can you really trust?" 

 Nixon wanted to ignore his words, but at the same time he was so intrigued. "I think you are lying." He spat, hoping that he could internally set his own worries about Le Chiffre aside. Perhaps if he spoke of these words more often, he could eventually convince himself that there was nothing to be concerned about. He quickly took a card, wiping away the perspiration that was above his lip.

 Le Chiffre gazed at his own card blankly, pausing to briefly wipe the scarlet tear that was falling from his eye. Nixon secretly hoped that it was an extremely low or high number so that he would be in distress but he decided to not get his hopes up. In the background, the din of voices had long died down. It was possible that most people had already left by now, or that they were watching and waiting to see who would win. They were no longer just spectators, Nixon realised, but people who were on either one side of the political spectrum or the other. Was he in a room full of people who were really a part of the silent majority, or were these enemies who were now in Le Chiffre's ranks? Nobody cheered or jeered, making the atmosphere all the more uncertain. 

 Nixon was starting to shake a little as he tried to concentrate and he wished that he could have a Mai Tai to drink in order to relax his nerves. But at the same time, he did not want to become too relaxed to the point of becoming sloppy. Le Chiffre too, was in deep concentration, and had not spoken for a while. He was either becoming more focussed in the game, or perhaps he had wanted to give the president a chance to think more about his words, give him a moment to worry and question about how much he could trust his own advisors. 

 They took their next cards, and a feeling of hope washed over him, cooling him down from his anxiety. He had pushed the distrust about his advisors deep into the back of his mind, staring at the numbers on the cards as if his life had depended on it. He was close to getting his desired number, just one more card to determine his fate. It was as if he had been waiting his whole life for this to happen, just to see one number. 

 Le Chiffre was still so unreadable and Nixon wished that he could read his mind just as well as the other could read his. He was like a statue, his thin lips unmoving, and not a single vein stood out in his forehead in anger. It was probable that he was winning and knew it, but at the same time he might have been silent, feeling nervous about defeat. 

 "Take your third card." The croupier announced. Each followed what the man had said. Nixon could feel his heart thumping so hard that it practically drowned out everything else around him. If Le Chiffre was giving a snide insult, he could not hear it. It was like a wall had come around him and all was still. 

 With clammy hands, Nixon flipped the card around to see eight diamonds. With the four and seven that he already had, this made a perfect nineteen. Nixon was ecstatic. 

 The croupier went over to read the cards. "The player has won!" He announced finally. 

 Suddenly, that mask that Le Chiffre had been keeping on for such a long time was quick to fall and a long line of horrific red appeared to cut through the ghostly pallor. He rose to his feet in exasperation, grabbing hold of the ventolin and taking many puffs of air. Once he had regained his composure, his discoloured eyes shot accusingly at the president. 

 "You…you cheated." He gasped, a faint, hazy wheeze. A pale finger pointed at him "You are a liar…just like what everyone else has been saying."

 But in that split second, what other people had said about him was not as important as the great victory he had. Nixon's grin spread as he thought of how extravagant his next campaign could be. He could see all the balloons and streamers surrounding him now, complete with singing Nixon Belles and cheering people. It would be just like the old days, only better. All that money was now his and he couldn't believe it. 

 Nixon turned at the other man, who looked more weak and pathetic, rather than imposing and vampiric. He was suddenly not so afraid anymore. It was as if those blessed poker chips he had been given was fuel for more power. 

 "No! I haven't!" Nixon announced in defiance "I have played fair and square. I am not a crook!" saying this, he stood and gave his typical victory sign. Around him, people clapped and cheered and when he turned to the back of the room, Kissinger was beaming with pride. He smiled in appreciation, not only for the fact that this moment revealed that there were more of his supporters around, but that Kissinger was still by him, supporting him for all those long hours. A whole room of supporters would not make up for his gratitude of Kissinger's encouragement. It was this man who had replenished the faith he had in himself and his abilities, who had taught him to focus on the prize and hide his emotions and he had so much to thank him for. If he had it his way, he would take Kissinger roughly and kiss him in front of all those people, but of course reputation was still extremely important to him, for it was exactly what he was gambling for, and what he had endured for so long. 

 Le Chiffre stood, frozen in a mix of outrage and fear. But Nixon was completely unaware of this as he walked away with Kissinger back to the hotel room. Once Le Chiffre had arrived back into the darkness of his villa, he felt something pressing at the back of his head. The European wanted to turn around, but a hand kept firm hold so he was unable to move. He was certain that it was the barrel of a gun that was being pushed into him. 

 "I swear I will get the money back…I will." Le Chiffre pleaded weakly. 

 "That's what you said last time." A rough voice snarled, and the captor pushed the gun closer, causing him to gasp in pain. "You promised that you would give us these winnings, but instead you let that American president take them all. You are a fool!" 

 "Just give me one more chance I will return all your money." Le Chiffre begged. "I will make sure to-"

 But the captor never heard what Le Chiffre was about to promise, as a loud shot drowned out his feeble words. He fell to the floor like a rag doll, his discoloured eye staring upwards, the blood tears joining the scarlet pool which spread peacefully around his lifeless body. 

 On the balcony from his hotel room, Nixon looked at the way the waves lapped gently around the coast. With a Mai Tai in one hand and his hand on the railing, he felt more at ease than he had ever been in a while. Kissinger came at his side, putting hand on his arm. Nixon spun around to face him.

 "You played beautifully." Kissinger remarked, the moonlight reflecting off his thick lenses "But then again, I always knew that you had it in you." 

 Nixon smiled, "You were watching the whole time?"

 "Of course. I wasn't going to just leave you there on your own. Yet it turns out that you have quite a lot of supporters spectating."

 Against Kissinger's expectations, worry seemed to cloud the president's mind, and his dark brows drew down to a frown of unease. 

 "I'm just wondering, what did he mean when he said that he had many good friends who tell him things about me? These friends…who was he referring to?" 

 Kissinger took both of Nixon's hands to comfort him. "I don't know myself." He admitted quietly "But I think that just means that we must be extra vigilant about who we disclose information to." 

 Nixon peered into the bespectacled gaze of his lover. "I can trust you, Henry…can't I?" His voice was slightly shaky and it seemed as though the relaxing effects of the cocktail was wearing off. 

 The other man moved closer to him, his blue eyes staring straight into the anxious brown ones "You can tell me anything, Richard. And you know that I will never disclose information without your consent." He spoke with such sincerity, that Nixon immediately realised how foolish he was for even suspecting him for a second. He wanted to kiss him, but he was still pretty embarrassed about making the first move. 

 Kissinger read his mind immediately, taking his face into his hands and kissing him tenderly on the lips. Nixon shyly reciprocated but Kissinger quickly pulled away, realising that they were still standing on the balcony. 

 "Someone could be watching." Kissinger whispered hurriedly, "We need to get inside."

 Nixon agreed and followed him into the hotel room, where they closed the shutters, abandoned the sweaty formal attire and lay together in a passionate embrace, appreciating the touch of each other's body that they had not had a glimpse of for what had seemed like ages.

 

 But even though all seemed well for the president whose chances were largely increased for winning another term, there was one thing that Nixon did not hide as well as his emotions on the poker table. And it was this minor error that was eventually going to come back and haunt him, an error that his National Security Advisor wasn't quick enough to correct. 

 A chubby man holding binoculars was seated in a car just beneath the balcony where the romantic scene took place, and turned to a man that was sitting beside him. 

 "Hey! Guess what? It looks like those rumours about Republican Richard M. Nixon being a fag are really true." 

 The other man looked puzzled, straining to observe the balcony from a distance "What? Is Rebozo there?"

 "Nah, nah." The other man shook his head excitedly "I don't think those rumours about Bebe and Dick are really true. But it looks like he has a bit of a thing for that Jew-boy that works with him." 

 "Really?" The assistant was intrigued "Henry Kissinger? Oh boy, gimme those binoculars!"

 "They've already gone inside you idiot." The first man responded harshly, pulling the binoculars out of the other man's reach.

 The assistant leaned back on his chair "You should definitely make a file on that, Hoover. You may be onto something with that." 

 J. Edgar Hoover gave a large sly smile before taking another look at the balcony to see if the two lovers had reemerged. The thought of being able to expose such a scandalous secret to the public was making him very eager indeed. The press would certainly leap on this sort of juicy material if he ever presented it to them and of course they would not fail to give him a chance to be under the spotlight.

 "You know what, buddy? I might. I might just well do that…"

**Author's Note:**

> *Footnotes for historical explanations: 
> 
> “We have learnt of your talents playing poker during your time in the US Navy”: Sources reveal that President Nixon used to be a very skilled poker player when he was in the Navy during WWII. After winning, he would put his money towards funding his US Congress run back in 1946. 
> 
> Monaco: Even though this story is based from the Bond film and novel of Casino Royale, I have used Monaco as the main location of the casino, since it is one of the largest gambling centres of Europe. 
> 
> “And with that I'll stop all the dominoes from falling”: This is a reference to the Domino Theory, a concept that was first used by President Dwight Eisenhower when using a means to justify American intervention in the Cold War in order to stop the spread of Communism. It was believed that if one country falls to Communism, more around it would also become affected. 
> 
> “…You will finally admit to the world that you had let down the American people”: Le Chiffre at this stage makes a brief allusion to Nixon’s future interview with British journalist David Frost. This interview was particularly significant as Nixon was seen to admit fault and apologise to the Americans for letting the nation down.


End file.
